midnight's rage

m i d n i g h t ' s r a g e | z e r o

[ p r o l o u g u e ] unedited

A chiming of a clock rang through the silent night, signaling the approach midnight. The moon was full, illuminating the silver hair of a man pacing slowly around his office. He brought up one of his pale hands, running it through his hair which had been highlighted with white streaks within the last four years. An air of silence floated about his office, the only sound that would be heard was a lone wolf howling for its pack in the distance. The man enjoyed the serene environment, never the one to cause a scene, he preferred to be stealth about everything.

However, his moment of equanimity was gone when a knock sounded from his door, followed by the sound of two more quick rasps of the knuckle against metal, assuring the man that whoever was behind the door served under him. The timing was impeccable as he had planned and he knew exactly who was by the other side of the door. He had been waiting for the report before he could retreat to his own chamber and retire for the night. "Enter." His voice had come out gruff and horse.

The metal doors slid open fluently and by the other side was a brown haired man in his twenties escorted by an assistant, a blonde man about his late thirties. Dead fish like eyes scanned the brunette as if searching for something or someone he had anticipated to be with him. When he came up blank, his eyes traveled to gaze at the man's face.

"Where is she." It wasn't a question but a statement. He wasn't mad, in fact he was so calm and collected, and it scared the brown haired man.

The man's shoulder trembled and his legs shook. "I-I- c-couldn't get h-her. S-she was pro-protected..."

The boss said nothing in response, only his gaze on the guy evidently hardened, but that was all it took for the brunette to crumple to his knees and beg for mercy. He was overly aware of the consequences that came with failing his master and he was foolish to believe he would be spared.

"Plea-please," he sobbed. "Give me another chance!"

He had caved, how ignominious. Disgusting. He was almost embarrassed to have someone so weak under his rule. A curt nod was passed from him to the guy before him. "Leave." He waved his hand as if to dismiss the whimpering man. "Leave," he repeated.

Watering eyes paused in its weeping and looked up at his master in a mixture of surprise, relief and gratitude. He opened his mouth to thank and praise his master though before he could do so his features twisted into an expression of pain and went slack a second later. Blood splattered from his chest from where he was stabbed in the back and his body fell to the floor with a loud thud.

"Weak and gullible." The man let out a dark chuckle. Those who would throw away their pride and fall to the ground should stay on the ground. He turned to the blonde man who held a small dagger stained crimson red. "Go. Get me that girl."

"Yes, sir," his right hand man spoke in a firm voice. His face was just as emotionless and if not, even more so. As his master waved his hand in dismissal, he bowed and took his leave, dragging the dead body along with him, marking his tracks by maroon liquid that leaked from the body.